


The Patient

by silly_mortal



Category: Life Goes On (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:21:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26947360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silly_mortal/pseuds/silly_mortal
Summary: Jerry gets sick.
Relationships: Libby Thacher/Jerry Berkson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	The Patient

**Author's Note:**

> This popped into my head yesterday, so I put it down on paper. I keep having ideas for stories, but that doesn't necessarily mean they're good. I just need to get them out and there's nowhere else to put them except here.
> 
> My Jibby Timeline:
> 
> The Conference  
> A Series of Questions  
> The Baby  
> The Sitter  
> The Trip  
> The Weekend  
> The Announcement  
> The Conversation  
> The Memories  
> Halloween With The Berksons  
> The Patient  
> 

“Hi Elke, it’s Libby…” she said, sitting on the edge of the bed and talking into the bedside receiver. “Good morning… Elke, Jerry and I won’t be in today because he and the baby are sick… No, nothing too bad. They both came down with it last night. Nicky has a cold and Jerry has a _man_ -cold… Ha! Yes… No, you wouldn’t want to be in my shoes. Trust me- _Ouch_ , Jerry!”

Libby spun to look at her husband, who had just poked her in the side. He was lying in their bed, pouting and looking miserable.

“Ok, Elke I should go… My man-baby needs me… Call us if you need anything… Ok. Thanks… Bye.”

After setting down the phone, Libby turned back to Jerry and looked at him, expectantly.

“What’s a man-cold?” he asked, his voice sounding more nasal than usual.

“It’s a regular cold that a man has.”

“What’s the difference between that and a cold a woman has?”

“Nothing… but a woman continues doing everything as normal, while a man acts like he’s dying.”

“Nice, Libs,” he groaned. “That’s very nice.”

“Ok honey… I’m sorry I hurt your feelings,” she stated, apologetically, leaning down to give him a kiss. “What can I do to make it better?”

“You could hold me…”

“Is that _all_ you want? You must really be sick.”

“I _am_ really sick!”

Libby climbed into the bed and leaned back against the headboard. Jerry slid into her open arms and rested his head on her chest, using her warm, T-shirt covered breast as a pillow.

“My poor love,” she cooed, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. 

“I am _so_ sick, Libs. I don’t think I’ve ever been this sick in my life.”

“I know, honey. You’ve told me six times now. I’m starting to think your sniffles are turning into the Plague.”

“I feel awful! I can’t taste anything, my muscles ache, my nose won’t stop running-”

“My goodness, Jer… Do you think you’re gonna live?”

“Liiiiibs...” he whined. “Why are you so mean?”

“I’m sorry, sweetie. I’m just teasing you. I know you don’t feel good.”

Silently, she alternated between stroking his hair and his face.

“Do I have a fever?” he asked.

Libby turned his face to hers and pressed her lips against his forehead.

“You’re a little warm, but not feverish.”

“Is that your medical opinion, Dr. Berkson?” he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I don’t remember any doctor ever checking my temperature that way.”

“Your mother didn’t do that, when you were little?”

“No, she used a thermometer... like a _professional_ would.”

“Mine did, too, when I was running a fever, but she always checked with a kiss first, to see if I was even warm. I did it with my kids, too. It’s sweet.”

“It _is_ sweet,” he agreed. “I like it… Did you u do that with _Drew_ , too?”

“Nope. That treatment was reserved for my babies and my babies only.”

“But you just used it on me...?”

“Jerry, don’t you know you’re the _biggest_ baby of all?”

Jerry frowned, while Libby grinned at him.

“You’re mean.”

“And you’re being silly.”

“But I’m _siiiick_ ,” he whimpered.

“I know you are, honey… but sometimes I think you ham it up deliberately, so that I will baby you and give you extra attention.”

“Ham it up? What ham it up? I’m _sick_ , Libs!”

“Did you take the medicine I brought you earlier, Jerry?”

“I don’t want to...” he pouted. “It’s liquid and I hate liquid. It tastes bad.”

“Liquid works faster, sweetie. Plus, you’ll hardly taste it, with the orange juice.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Jerry…” she said, sternly. “You _have_ to take your medicine. You’re not going to feel any better until you do. Nicky took his last night, without any fuss, and he’s only _three_.”

“His probably tastes better than mine.”

“It doesn’t but, even if it did, you’re a grown man, Jerry. You need to take your meds and, as soon as you do, you will start to feel better. Now, sit up...”

Jerry whined in protest, as Libby reached for the bottle of medicine on the bedside table. When she poured out a teaspoon full and held it to his lips, he winced and turned his head.

“I’d rather be sick, Libs. I don’t want it.”

“Take it, Jerry.”

“No.”

“I mean it, Jer. Nicky’s going to wake up soon and I don’t want him to see his father acting like a big baby.”

Jerry shook his head.

“That is never going in my mouth, Libby. No way.”

“Jerry Berkson… If you ever want want anything of _yours_ to go in _my_ mouth again, you will take this medicine.”

Jerry turned back to see Libby staring at him, meaningfully. He hesitated for a millisecond before, with a frown, he parted his lips and allowed her to pour the contents of the spoon into his mouth. He immediately began sputtering. 

Rolling her eyes, Libby took the glass or orange juice and handed it to him. She shook her head, as he gulped it down, dramatically.

“Is it all better now?” she asked, after he had finished the contents of the glass.

“Ugh! Are you happy, Nurse Ratched? That is the worst thing I have ever swallowed in my life!”

“Yes, well, I’ve had to _swallow_ when I didn’t necessarily want to, either, but I do it because I love you, so you can do things because you love me... I’m sure you’re gonna live, Jer. Now, come here...”

She took him into her arms again and let him snuggle against her, as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. 

They were silent for several minutes.

“What else did your mom do for you, when you were sick as a little girl?” he asked, softly.

“She’d braid my hair-”

“Well, that won’t do me any good,” he retorted.

“She’d read me a story-”

“I can’t concentrate on a story right now.”

“She’d rub my scalp or my back, until I went to sleep.”

“Oh, that one sounds nice.”

Libby smiled. Ever so gently, she slid her hand under his T shirt and ran her fingertips, back and forth, over his bare back. Jerry sighed, contentedly, and cuddled even closer to her. She lifted her other hand to his head and did the same thing to his scalp.

“That feels so good,” he sighed.

“My sweet love...” she said, softly.

“You take such good care of me, Libs.”

“That’s because I love you.”

“I love you, too… The best decision I ever made was to marry you.”

“Really?” she asked, in mock surprise. “Just last week you told me that the best decision you ever made was to _ravish_ me while I was too drunk to protest.”

“I was kidding and you weren’t _that_ drunk… although you absolutely did _not_ protest... Yeah, that was a good decision too, but I am very happy that I can finally call you my wife.”

“I’m happy, too. I like being Libby Berkson.”

“Like it? You should _love_ it, Libs. ‘Libby Berkson’ has such a ring to it. Not like Thacher. Thaaaaa cher. Berkson. Thaaaaacher. See?”

“Careful,” she warned. “I still have children with that name. If they hear their stepfather making fun of it, they will not be happy… no matter how much they like you.”

“Sorry… but I’m happy that at least one of those Thacher kids is now a Berkson.”

“He was always a Berkson, he just had the Thacher name. And, thankfully, he’s young enough that he’ll never remember it. In his mind, he will always have been Nicholas Giordano Berkson.”

“Very true… I can’t tell you how much I love this, Libs. I mean, if didn’t live together, what would I do if I were sick?”

“The same thing you always did, Jer. You’d make me leave work to bring you food and take care of you at your apartment. It’s hardly different.”

“It is different. Now I don’t have to call you and wait for you, cause you’re right here. I like this better.”

“Me too, love.”

They laid there, in silence, for a moment, as Libby continued to rub his back. She felt one of his hands slowly worm it’s way under her shirt, to cup her breast.

“What are you doing, Jer?” she asked, teasingly.

“I needed a soft place to rest my hand.”

“And that’s the _only_ place you could find?”

“No… but it’s my _favorite_.”

“I see.”

“Libs...”

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m starting to feel a little better.”

“From the feeling of the thing that’s poking my thigh, I think you’re starting to feel better too,” she giggled.

“Do you think, _maybe_ , we could, _you know_ -”

“ _Ma-maaaaaa_ …!”

Libby jumped out of bed and raced across the hall. 

“Mama’s coming, Nicky!”

Jerry thanked his lucky stars that the sound of a crying baby seemed to be a miracle cure for ridding men of their erections, because the last thing he wanted to do was traumatize his son. 

A few seconds later, Libby carried their whimpering three-year-old son into their bedroom and deposited him on their bed, between them. 

“My poor baby…” she murmured. “Is your head all stuffed up?”

“I’m sick!” Nicky cried.

“I know, my love...” she crooned, sympathetically. “Mama’s got your medicine right here. As soon you take it, you’ll start to feel better.”

Libby measured out the liquid medication into the baby medicine spoon and gave it to Nicky, who promptly swallowed it, without a fuss. She smiled, proudly.

“Oh, my good boy! Look, Papa, at what a _brave_ child we have here,” Libby looked at Jerry, a smirk on her face. “Our Nicky isn’t a baby _at all_. He takes his medicine like a _grown-up_ does!”

Jerry glared at her, before giving Nicky a smile.

“Good job, Nicky. You did it just right. We're very proud of you,” he said.

Libby took her son back into her arms and held him against her. She pressed her lips against his forehead, the same way she had done to Jerry, earlier.

“You don’t feel warm, honey. That’s a good sign.”

She rocked him for a few minutes, gently rubbing his back, before looking down at him.

“Nicky,” Libby smiled, stroking her little boy’s cheek. “Mama’s going to go downstairs and make some breakfast for you and Papa to have in bed... You wait here, ok? What do you want to eat?”

“French toast,” he replied, sounding stuffed up.

“French toast it is... Papa, hold the baby and take care of him until I get back...”

She handed Nicky to Jerry, but not before placing several kisses on his small cheek.

“ _Heyyyy_!” Jerry called, when she started to exit the room.

Libby turned back and, indulgently, kissed her husband’s cheek, as well.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” she smiled, before walking out the door.

Jerry looked down at his son, whose head was pressed against his chest. Gently, he pressed a kiss on the top of his head.

“You’re lucky, Nicky... Your mom gives you the royal treatment without you having to do a thing. Your old man has to _act out_ in order to get it… Your mom thinks I’m too old for it, but I’m not… 

“You know, when you’re little and get sick, moms take care of their little ones and the little ones love it. Then, when you get a bit older, they don’t like it as much because no one wants to feel like a baby during the time that you’re trying to feel like you’re a grown up. However, once you are a full-fledged grown up and you fall in love, you want nothing more, when you’re sick, than for the person you love to baby you and show you that they love you… 

“When Mama’s sick, she doesn’t let anyone take care of her, because she’s so used to taking care of everyone else. I’ve tried, but she just doesn’t let it happen... 

“Now, I know it gets on your mom’s nerves when I act like a baby when I’m sick, but it’s the only way I can get her to fawn over me and give me all the attention I crave… I know it’s childish, but I don’t care. Eve grown-ups like to be babied sometimes. I-”

Jerry heard a throat clear and turned to see Libby standing in the doorway, arms crossed and smiling, smugly.

“I forgot to take the medicine with me, so I could put it back in the fridge,” she explained.

Jerry shrugged, non-chalantly.

“You can wipe that smirk off your face, Libs, cause I _knew_ you were there the whole time. I was just saying that because I knew you were listening,” he stated, hoping he would buy it.

“Of course you did, honey,” she agreed, indulgently.

Libby walked over to Jerry and cupped his face in her hands. She stared into his eyes, lovingly, pressing a tender, open-mouthed kiss to his lips.

When she pulled back, she stroked his cheek, softly.

“I love you… _baby_.”


End file.
